


Healing Thy Brother

by tinadp



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2818247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinadp/pseuds/tinadp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D'Artagnan nodded slowly, he had vague memories of the skirmish, he remembered a sudden, burning pain, and Athos kneeling beside him, holding his side to staunch the bleeding. "Where's Athos?" He asked, suddenly aware of his absence</p>
<p>"In bed sick," Porthos answered.</p>
<p>D'Artagnan wakes up injured after an ambush and his mentor is not there with his brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Due to the kind comments and kudos left on my first stories I've decided to be a little braver and post another. This is just a short fluffy fic without a lot of substance.  
> I'm open to any and all feedback and constructive criticism.

D'Artagnan fought his way slowly to awareness. His whole body felt heavy, somehow weighed down and fought his attempts at movement, even trying to open his eyes was proving to be a monumental challenge. 

"'Mis, I think he's coming around." He heard the sound of Porthos' voice beside him. 

He became aware of a throbbing pain in his side, he slowly moved his hand towards the area to feel what was wrong. "I hope you're not going to do anything to disturb my beautiful stitch work." He heard Aramis and was aware of his touch on his hand, gently moving it away from his side. "D'Artagnan are you with us?" He felt the mattress dip beside him as Aramis sat on the edge of the bed. 

"Come on lad, open your eyes for us." Porthos urged, reaching for his hand. 

The Gascon fought until finally his eyes fluttered open. He was rewarded by the sight of the smiling faces of his two friends. Porthos put a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed. "So good to see you awake, you gave us quite a scare."

"How are you feeling?" Aramis asked, putting his hand on the younger man's forehead. 

D'Artagnan tried to speak but his voice was hoarse and merely a croak. Aramis produced a cup of water as Porthos slowly and gently eased him to a sitting position, sliding himself behind the young man to support him. Aramis held the cup to the young man's slips as he drank slowly. 

"Better?" Aramis asked softly and D'Artagnan nodded. "Now tell us how you're feeling." 

"Tired," he managed,"My side hurts.......what.... happened?"

"We were ambushed,"Aramis explained. "Just outside Paris. You were shot. Do you remember any of it?"

D'Artagnan nodded slowly, he had vague memories of the skirmish, and he remembered a sudden, burning pain, and Athos kneeling beside him, holding his side to staunch the bleeding. "Where's Athos?" He asked, suddenly aware of his absence

"In bed sick," Porthos answered. "Don't worry, he's fine." He patted the Gascon's arm reassuringly. 

D'Artagnan was not put at ease, the entire time he had known the older man he had never known him to be ill. Injured, drunk, hungover, yes, but never ill. And unwell enough to be in bed, that seemed like cause for concern. 

Aramis saw the look of distress on the younger man's face, and squeezed his hand, "Nothing too serious D'Artagnan, I don't know if you remember he seemed to be coming down with something when we were on our way back to Paris?"

D'Artagnan nodded, he did remember Athos seeming under the weather on the last day of their mission. He had looked pale and exhausted and had seemed to be developing a cough. "Well you know Athos, he certainly didn't get any rest or take care of himself. He was ready to drop," Aramis continued smiling. "I threatened to drug his wine if he didn't get some rest. " 

"He didn't want to leave your side, sat here day and night. "Porthos added. "He wouldn't go until your fever finally broke this morning. "

"How long was I out?" His voice remained hoarse.

"More than a week." Porthos answered, stunning the younger man. "You had us all worried." 

"You lost a lot of blood," Aramis explained,"And then there was infection. Things are looking better now. Do you think you could manage some broth?"

The younger man agreed, more worried about his friend than himself. "You're sure Athos is alright? Shouldn't someone be with him?"

"He'll be much better now that you're awake," Porthos reassured, " I'm going to go check in on him and let him know." Porthos stepped out as Aramis assisted D'Artagnan with some broth, reassuring him that Athos was just a few minutes away in the garrison. 

The older man had refused to go home to his own rooms, feeling the need to be nearby in case there was any change in D'Artagnan's condition. Once the fever broke, he had finally agreed to rest in Porthos' room which was the closest to the Gascon's. 

Porthos tried to slip into the room quietly in case Athos had been able to sleep. He was not all surprised however to hear the rasping voice of his friend,"How's the boy? Is there a change?" Porthos could hear the fear in his voice. 

"He's awake Athos, he'll be okay." He could hear Athos sigh in relief. "Now you need to take care of yourself. "

Athos nodded, "As long as I know D'Artagnan is alright. I....I was so afraid for him....and for us..." His voice was choked with emotion. 

Porthos made his way to his friend. He sat on the edge of the bed beside him and rested his hand on top of Athos' and squeezed. "We all were, but he's all right. He's more worried about you than himself right now." 

"Stubborn fool, " Athos croaked with a faint smile. 

Porthos grinned,"That makes two of you. Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"

Athos shrugged. " I will try, you're sure he is..."

"I'm positive," Porthos softly reassured him. "Now what can I do for you Athos? You need to get some rest. "

"I'm fine. Go help Aramis with the boy. "

Porthos shook his head, "They're fine, Aramis doesn't need any help, I'll stay here to keep an eye on you."

Athos shot him a glare. "I don't need anyone to keep an eye on me." Any conviction in the statement was lost in the violent bout of coughing that followed. 

Porthos poured him a cup of water and helped him sit up to drink it. Once Athos stopped coughing and caught his breath Porthos shook his head, "No Athos, of course you don't need anyone to look after you." He ignored his dirty look and put his hand across his forehead, catching his hand when he tried to bat it away. "You've got a fever."

Athos sighed, "I know. "

Porthos pushed his hair back from his forehead, stroking gently. "Close you eyes Athos, D'Artagnan is alright."

Athos grumbled but closed his eyes and Porthos continued threading his fingers through his friends hair until sleep took him. 

After D'Artagnan finished the broth Aramis prepared him some willow tea to help with the pain and prevent his fever from returning. 

"Aramis, you should make sure that Athos is okay," 

Aramis smiled at the young man, "D'Artagnan, he's fine. Porthos is with him, you need my attention more than he does right now. "

D'Artagnan frowned and prepared to argue. Aramis did not want to upset his young friend in his weakened state and relented. "Let's get you settled for now and then I'll go check on him." The younger man smiled sleepily at his friend, his relief obvious. After finishing the tea he soon drifted off to sleep snoring softly. Aramis pulled back the covers to be sure that the bandage on his side was still dry and watched him doze for a few minutes before keeping his word and slipping off to check on Athos. 

"How is he?" He whispered to Porthos who had shifted his position to the chair beside the bed. 

"He's hot," Porthos frowned, reaching up to check his forehead again, "His cough is sounding worse too. "

Aramis sighed, "I'll get some willow tea and honey ready for him. Come and get me if he wakes up before I'm back. " Porthos nodded still frowning as he felt the heat radiating from Athos. 

Aramis returned to D'Artagnan's room and prepared more of the medicinal tea, this time for his other friend. "How is Athos?" He was stunned to find the younger man awake. 

Aramis paused, he considered lying but knew it would not be the right thing to do, and he was sure that the Gascon would be able to see how worried he was. "He has a bit of a fever. I'm just making him some willow tea."

D'Artagnan frowned, "He's sicker because of me isn't he?"

"Of course not, you know how stubborn Athos is...." Aramis reassured. 

"Porthos said he was here. I'm sure he wouldn't still be sick if he wasn't losing sleep worrying about me...." The guilt was apparent in his voice. 

"Shhhhh D'Artagnan don't be foolish. None of this is your fault. Athos will be fine. You need to get some rest. Porthos and I will take care of him. And you as well. Now, I would like you to close your eyes for a bit and get some rest. Can you please do that for me?"

D'Artagnan sighed and nodded. Aramis offered a small smile, "Thank you," he leaned over to the bed and squeezed his arm. "I'm going to bring this to Athos. You will be all right to be alone for a few minutes?"

He nodded again yawning, "I will be fine, please make sure Athos has what he needs."

Aramis smiled at the younger man, knowing he would be hearing the same sentiments from his older friend soon enough. With one last appraising glance at D'Artagnan he left the room to bring the tea and check on his second patient. 

He could hear Athos' congested coughs even before he reached the room. He found Porthos standing beside the bed with a cup of water looking helpless as the older man struggled to catch his breath. Finally the fit passed and Athos slumped back against the pillows. 

"That does not sound very good at all!" Aramis tutted making his way to the bed. "How are you feeling Athos?"

The man in the bed shrugged and sighed,"About as bad as I sound I would imagine. Why are you not with D'Artagnan?" 

"He's sleeping. I came to check on you. "

"I am fine. You should be with him." His voice was hoarse and thick with congestion. 

Aramis smiled, " He is saying the same thing about you. "

"That whelp is too stubborn for his own good." Athos growled. 

"The same could be said for you my friend. " Aramis pressed his hand against his friends forehead as Athos tried to squirm away. "Your fever is worrying." He frowned. 

Athos started to protest but was seized by another bout of coughing. The others winced at the deep, wet coughs, and shared a look of concern over their friend. 

Porthos offered the water and after a few agonizing minutes the older man was able to gain control of the coughing once again. He cleared his throat, his voice only a harsh whisper as he thanked his friend. 

Aramis offered the tea,"It should help with your fever and the cough. " Athos nodded his thanks and sipped the tea slowly. 

"Tell me about D'Artagnan," he croaked. 

His fever is gone for now," Aramis began. "He's taken some tea and broth and is sleeping again. Once we awakes again I'll change his bandage and look at the wound. " He knew Athos would not truly rest until he was sure that their youngest was out of the woods. 

"You are sure he will......survive?" The older man's voice was faltering. 

"Oh Athos, yes I'm confident he will survive." Aramis' voice was soft as he sat on the edge of the bed putting his arm around his friend and pulling him close. Porthos sat on his other side leaning into his shoulder. Athos closed his eyes, savoring the moment of comfort from his brothers. 

"Thank you." He sighed feeling some of the tension leave his body. "Now you two should go back to D'Artagnan."

Aramis and Porthos shared a smile as their eyes met. "Aramis will be going back to D'Artagnan, you my friend, are stuck with me. " Porthos patted his arm. 

Athos frowned, "Aramis will need you when he changes the bandages. That will be painful for him."

"I will come to get Porthos when I need him." Aramis reassured, "You are quite ill yourself my friend, I need Porthos here keeping watch over you."

Athos huffed coughing harshly into his fist. "Rubbish." 

"Somebody has to look after you Athos, you certainly won't do it yourself. " Aramis leaned against him once more before rising from the bed. "And Porthos is just the man for the job. "

"You know I am," the large man grinned. " I make a right fine nurse don't I Aramis?"

"You certainly do my friend." Aramis grinned and then turned back to Athos to cut off the argument he was about to raise. "Athos, you are truly ill. Please let us look after you."

The older man growled but did not argue. He allowed Porthos to straighten his blankets and adjust his pillows, nodding his thanks to both men before rolling over to try to sleep. Aramis gave Porthos a squeeze on the arm. "Come get me if you need to." He instructed softly and Porthos nodded settling back in the chair beside the bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you not remember that you were shot and have been unconscious for a week?" Aramis struggled with his frustration, knowing it was born of worry for his two friends and being torn between both their needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kind comments and kudos. I truly appreciate every one. I hope you all enjoy the conclusion.

Aramis returned to D'Artagnan's room, pleased to find the younger man still sleeping soundly. He turned to the table where he had his herbs and supplies laid out. He prepared what he anticipated needing for both men; herbs for a strong pain draught for the Gascon to get him through the treatment of his wound and more of the salve he used to prevent infection. For Athos he prepared something for his cough and fever. Once finished he settled in the chair beside the bed to watch over his friend. 

Porthos sat beside Athos watching the older man sleep with concern. He knew his friend had pushed himself and his body too far especially when he had already been ill. They had tried everything they could to get him to rest, but his worry for D'Artagnan had eclipsed everything else. He slept quietly for a time and then Porthos noted him becoming restless in his sleep. 

He put his hand gently on his shoulder hoping to calm him as Athos started moving around in his sleep. "No," his voice was hoarse and croaking," No, D'Artagnan ! "

He started to weep and Porthos moved close to him, trying to wake him gently,"Athos, you're dreaming, everything is fine."

"No, D'Artagnan , I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let you get shot!" He was becoming more and more restless. 

"Athos, he's fine," Porthos put his hand on his shoulder. 

"Porthos! Where is Aramis? We must find him. D'Artagnan , he's bleeding so much. I think we've lost him.." A deep sob escaped from him. 

"Athos!" He spoke louder and gently shook the older man's shoulder. Athos opened his eyes though at first they remained unfocused and he appeared confused. Porthos leaned close keeping his hand on his friends shoulder. "D'Artagnan is okay, Aramis is with him now. You saved him. "

Athos blinked slowly, " You're positive?"

"Yes," Porthos reassured, "It was just a dream, the boy is safe. You have a fever Athos, it was just a dream. D'Artagnan is recovering." Seeming reassured for the moment Athos closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. Porthos frowned and felt his forehead again to check his fever, he seemed even warmer than earlier. 

By the time Aramis came to check in an hour later it was clear that his fever was spiking. He was restless once again and heat seemed to radiate from him. Aramis was displeased with his condition and quickly retrieved a basin of cool water and the cloths they had used to help cool D'Artagnan's high fever not so long before. Porthos sat with Athos sponging his head, neck and chest and speaking softly to him. 

Aramis returned to D'Artagnan's room surprised once again to find him awake. "How is Athos?"

"His fever seems to be climbing, he's sleeping now. " The younger man frowned, his worry and guilt evident. "D'Artagnan, he will be fine."

"You should be with him."

"Porthos is with him, I am here with you. I'll have you know that he has been doing the same thing trying to send us back here to you. " Aramis smiled fondly," You two make quite a pair!"

"But if he's really sick he needs you, Porthos can stay with me." D'Artagnan did not relent. 

"Do you not remember that you were shot and have been unconscious for a week?" Aramis struggled with his frustration, knowing it was born of worry for his two friends and being torn between both their needs. "I'm sorry D'Artagnan ..."

"No, Aramis, I am sorry. I don't mean to be ungrateful. I am just worried about Athos. "

"Don't worry my friend, we are all a bit on edge these days. Porthos and I will be sure you both are cared for. "

"I know you will. Thank you." 

Aramis smiled at the younger man, squeezing his arm. "You are most welcome D'Artagnan. I cannot express enough how pleased we all are to see you recovering. Now tell me how you are feeling. "

"My side hurts quite a bit and everything else is sore."

Aramis nodded, "Not surprising after everything you have been through. I'd like you to drink a pain draught and then we can change your bandage. "

D'Artagnan nodded accepting the bitter drink from his friend with a grimace. Aramis smiled approvingly, "We'll give that a little time to take effect and then I'll get Porthos. "

"Porthos needs to stay with Athos!"

"D'Artagnan , your wound is deep and still very angry. Even with the strong draught it will be very painful for you. I need Porthos' assistance."

"If Athos' fever is climbing, he should not be left alone!" The Gascon's voice was full of emotion. 

Aramis struggled to reassure the younger man even as he shared the same concerns, " It won't be for long. We'll make sure he is resting comfortably before Porthos joins us. "

"No. You change it. I....I will be fine." He was insistent despite the realization that Porthos' job was most likely to be to hold him in place during the painful procedure. 

Aramis frowned, he was about to respond when Porthos slipped into the room. He greeted D'Artagnan and then asked Aramis to come with him for a moment. As much as he was trying to remain calm in front of their youngest, D'Artagnan was quite aware of the worry he was trying to hide. 

Aramis followed him quickly out in the hallway and towards his room. "I don't know what to do," Porthos offered as they rushed down the corridor. 

They entered the room to find Athos curled up on the bed sobbing, his face was heavily flushed, his hair damp with sweat. Porthos looked to Aramis, "He thinks the boy is dead. I can't get through to him. And he's so hot!" There was obvious distress in his voice. 

Aramis squeezed his arm reassuringly and went to the bed. "Athos!" He put himself in front of the older man's face. Athos seemed not to hear him. He gently shook his shoulder and tried again. "Athos, my friend, it's Aramis. "

Some recognition dawned in the ill man's face but it was immediately replaced with an expression of sorrow, "Aramis, it's too late. We've lost him."

"No Athos, we haven't," Aramis insisted, his words lost in the sound of sobbing. 

"What do we do?" Porthos asked, his distress clear on his face. 

"I....I don't know," Aramis paused scrubbing his hand over his face. "We can't take care of both of them like this...."

"Athos would never forgive us if we put him in the infirmary...."

Aramis shook his head,"He wouldn't and I don't think he's going to get any rest until he realizes that D'Artagnan really is alright. "

The sobbing turned to harsh congested coughs as Athos drew a ragged breath. Porthos and Aramis locked eyes, both reaching the same conclusion. Aramis nodded, "Can you carry him?"

Porthos rolled his eyes, "And you at the same time if needed," Aramis grinned in response and moved to open the door as Porthos gathered his ill friend into his arms. Athos resisted at first but soon leaned into Porthos' chest at the sound of his soft reassurances. Aramis checked the hallway quickly to be sure there were no other Musketeers present, they knew how much Athos would despise being seen in his weakened state. When he gave the all clear Porthos quickly carried the man down the corridor to D'Artagnan's room. 

D'Artagnan was lying in bed focused on the door, his anxiety over the health of his mentor growing by the minute. The door opened suddenly and before he could ask after Athos, Porthos carried the man into the room. His sobs had stopped for the moment but his breathing remained ragged and Porthos knew his despair was just barely contained as he dozed. 

D'Artagnan looked questioningly at Aramis who remained silent but helped the boy slide over in the bed as Porthos gently lay Athos beside him. The movement jarred him awake and the others could see his anguish played out on his face. 

Before his friend could speak Porthos turned him towards D'Artagnan in the bed and Aramis knelt beside the boy, leaning over him. "Athos! D'Artagnan is right here."

"No, " he sobbed, putting his hands over his face" He is lost, I could not save him, I failed him." His voice was little more than a defeated whisper as the sobs wracked his body. 

Aramis helped D'Artagnan onto his side and the younger man reached out to his mentor, taking hold of both his hands. "Athos, " his voice was still weak but leaned close to his friend. "Athos I am right here."

His eyes opened slowly, a look of disbelief on his face as he took in the sight of the younger man. "Athos," D'Artagnan continued, "You did save me, you saved my life. "

"D'Artagnan... I .... I thought that we had lost you."

"You did not my friend." D'Artagnan's voice was full of emotion as his mentor leaned his head onto his shoulder. He reached his arms around the older man pulling him closer. The two men clung to each other overwhelmed by emotion. Aramis smiled in relief and looked up to see Porthos wiping tears from his eyes. He came around the bed and put his arm around his friend, pulling him into a gentle embrace. 

Both men watched happily as their friends relaxed and fell into peaceful sleep for the first time in weeks. Aramis quickly checked D'Artagnan's bandaged side proclaiming it fit to last a few more hours so that the two men could get some of the rest they so badly needed. Porthos covered them with a light blanket, knowing Athos' fever would heat them both. 

The two friends settled into chairs side by side finishing the wine Athos had left behind, both exhausted but neither wanting to move away from the scene before them.


End file.
